Fervor
by PRDFox
Summary: In the Old Republic, a padawan named Ferroh strives to be the best Jedi there is. But the Jedi warn against such passion for a reason...
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

The searing hum of 15 lightsabers igniting at once was enough to catch anyone's attention.

Every being in the square stopped in their tracks. Merchants and customers fell silent; the only noise coming now from ignorant droids dutifully continuing to sort goods. Everyone looked with new interest at the unremarkable store-front that had been set up 3 weeks ago. Two off-worlders, a Gran and a Human, had shown up to sell Swoop Bike accessories in the hectic bazaar. The Gran seemed to do most of the work, dealing with customers and bossing the droids around. The other was rarely seen. He always wore shades and rarely came out of the shop. With the arrival of the Jedi, though, there was obviously something more going on than parts sales.

The Gran was nearly frantic, and was gesturing for the Jedi to calm down. Several Jedi brushed by him while two others firmly took him by each arm and pulled him away. His sheer terror was enough to make a few of the other bystanders chuckle. The humour was soon gone as the human emerged from the back of the shop with a sneer on his pale face.

"How nice of you all to come," he said dryly.

"Aska Jorung," began an elderly Zabrak female, addressing the man. "The Jedi are aware of what you are. You are to come with us immediately." She paused and stared hard at him, then gestured at two other Jedi, who began to flank him in the doorway. "Will you comply?"

"If you know what I am," he answered. "You would have come better prepared." He chuckled arrogantly. "I see through your bluff."

The Zabrak showed no emotion, but a few of the other Jedi glanced at each other.

"There is but _one_ true Jedi among you," Jorung said, never taking his eyes from the Jedi Master.

The flanking Jedi stopped and looked back at the Master. Her jaw slid forward slightly - the only sign of tension she had shown so far.

"You are really going to sacrifice these inexperienced weaklings to try to stop me? What if their _masters_ knew?" His face was deadly serious. The on-lookers began to disperse quickly, knowing now that it was not worth staying around to see what happened. Though they were not attuned to the Force, they could all sense the danger clearly now.

"Listen well, padawans," he continued. "This Jedi has no doubt told you that you must do the noble thing – bring me to justice. She has no doubt told you that you have all been trained well…that you will prevail if you stay calm and focused. But I sense your fear…"

With that, he stepped out of the doorway and walked slowly up to the Zabrak master, until he was just out of the reach of her weapon.

"You face a Sith. Death awaits you." He said nothing more.

*****************

Ferroh watched the unfolding scene, fighting his anxiety. His muscles twitched, and he felt his claws dig into his palm as they unsheathed involuntarily. Master Shae Ryk's plan was as obvious to Jorung as if the Sith had planned it himself. Now one Jedi and 14 untried and completely inexperienced padawans faced a powerful renegade Sith Lord.

The group of padawans had journeyed to this planet as part of a survival training exercise. Ferroh was a Cathar, a feline-like humanoid, with short golden fur and the beginnings of a mane. Being a Cathar, he was naturally adept at living in the wilderness. He had told his master, Talomar, that his time could be better spent elsewhere, such as training under the Battlemaster. As usual, Talomar had not listened to him and had sent him anyway. He had spent the past month fasting and hiking, building shelters and then taking them down, eating roots…All skills that were not going to help him now against Aska Jorung.

Ferroh was surprised that Jorung did not have a lightsaber drawn. In fact, he didn't seem to have any weapon on his person at all. He knew better than to assume the Sith was without defenses, however. A user of the Dark side was devious and could use the Force any number of ways to kill his foes. Still, Ferroh thought, if I could move fast enough…

It seemed that Cabatha, a Wookiee padawan, had the same idea. In a blur of speed only the Force could provide, he rushed Jorung from the side. Ferroh saw his chance and began to rush forward as well, until he saw Jorung leap straight up, a red lightsaber flashing to life in his hand. Piking in mid-air, Jorung held his lighsaber straight down and into Cabatha's face. The wookiee ran right into it and dropped to the ground.

Before he had even landed, Jorung used the Force to blast outward in a circle. Everyone except Master Shae Ryk was knocked flat.

"There is the first victim of your decision," spat Jorung. "How many more are you going to send to their deaths?"

"Stand down, everyone," said Shae Ryk, quietly. "This is a foe that is beyond any of your skills. Go and send for help…I will face this wretched creature alone."

No one moved. Ferroh figured he would not be much of a match for the Sith, but he was not going to leave the old Zabrak to fight him alone. She was a tough taskmaster, but she was also clever and witty, and a better listener than his own Ithorian master. He had come to know her well over the past few weeks. He couldn't bring himself to leave her to fend for herself.

It appeared that the other padawans felt the same.

"Seems you don't have very obedient students, Jedi," said Jorung with a smirk. "That's alright. I have reconsidered my decision to let them go anyway." He began to move back to the doorway. "Better to get rid of them now than to allow them to become brainwashed Jedi knights."

"You won't escape," said Garreeb, a young Nautilan. He was moving to cut Jorung off from the doorway, his head tendrils swaying side to side.

"Victim number two," said Jorung. He raised his hand toward the Nautilan.

Shae Ryk's hand flew up faster. Jorung whipped around to block her force attack, but he misread her intentions – she was not aiming for his body, nor his weapon. His sun-blinders flew from his eyes, and Jorung cried out loud in pain and surprise.

Ferroh moved quickly now. He plunged his lightsaber toward the blinded Sith, as did Garreeb. But the Sith was still a formidable adversary, and he parried both padawan's attacks. Garreeb was a pretty good duelist – he and Ferroh had sparred several times over the past few weeks. But they had never fought together against a foe, and Ferroh found it awkward. Even a blinded Jorung was able to fend them off.

Then Master Shae Ryk was among them, and Ferroh pulled back. Jorung was more hard-pressed to defend himself, but Shae Ryk's Shii-Cho style seemed too predictable for the Sith, and he was able to maneuver back into the shop. Once inside, the lower level of light allowed Jorung to regain his composure and counter-attack. He held Shae Ryk in the doorway, blocking any of the padawans from entering. Finally, Shae Ryk stepped back into the light of the street, leaving Jorung inside.

Other than the dust-filled wind, there was no sound in the square. Many of the padawans twitched nervously, not knowing what to do.

"He will strike hard and fast when he sees a chance to escape," stated the Jedi Master. "Be ready."

"Master," said Ferroh. "We are ready for anything."

Shae Ryk turned out to be right; Ferroh, however, was not as prepared as he declared. A fiery explosion tore through the front of the building, catching several of the padawans in the blast. Ferroh was fortunate to not be in the path of the discharge. He saw Jorung leap out just behind the explosion and run down the street. Ferroh leapt over the debris and gave pursuit. The Sith wouldn't escape so easily.

"Ferroh, stop!" cried Shae Ryk. Ferroh ground to a halt, but kept his eyes on Jorung until he rounded a bend and out of sight. He kicked at the dust in frustration.

"So that's how it ends? He wins?" he growled through his teeth.

"Padawan," said Shae Ryk gently, "he has temporarily escaped us. Our purpose on this planet was survival training – not confronting Sith. We did what we could. I foresee that one day, he will get what he deserves."

"Besides," she added. "Our comrades need our help."

They made their way over to the fallen padawans. Their number had been reduced by three.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

That evening, Garreeb pulled the Cathar aside. "Ferroh. We need your help."

"What is it?" he asked, curious.

"We're going to talk to Jorung's partner. The Gran. He might know something"

Ferroh saw another of the padawans behind Garreeb, a dark-haired human by the name of Hue. He disliked Hue because of his constant put-downs.

"What do you need me for?" asked Ferroh.

"Intimidation factor, big guy," said Hue smoothly. Ferroh scowled at the human. Ferroh was sensitive about his stature. Of the padawans there, he was the smallest except for a little Sallustan named Snian.

"We might just run into Jorung himself…" said Garreeb. "That's why."

"Fine. I'm in," said Ferroh. "Does Master Ryk know?" Ferroh thought he already knew the answer.

"She's tending to the wounded," explained Garreeb, dodging the question. "Come on."

The three padawans walked through the darkened streets together. Though it was evening, the streets were far from deserted. Many gestured or stared at them as they passed, noticing their Jedi robes. Those with something to hide ducked into alleys or buildings. Ferroh appreciated the respect he got while in public, and so he tried to show respect back to the people he would someday protect as a Jedi knight.

"Say, why did Jorung react to the light the way he did?" Garreeb asked. "It was bright out, but not _that_ bright."

"He's an Arkanian," said Hue. "They can't take the bright sunshine of this planet."

"I thought he was human, like you," said Ferroh.

"Nah, he's no _lowly_ human. Arkanians are _better_ than human. And certainly better than Cathars," said Hue, throwing his hands up defensively as Ferroh shot him another scowl. "If you catch my meaning. Arkanians think pretty highly of themselves as a race. I didn't notice he was one until Master Ryk took off his blinders."

"Well how did Master Ryk know?" Garreeb wondered.

In response, Hue held up his hands, fingers outstretched. Then he folded his pinkies down slowly. "Four fingers. Arkanians only have four." He chuckled. "Old lady's smart, I'll give her that."

Ferroh thought about how events were developing. "This is much better than survival training," he said aloud. "This is what Jedi are supposed to do."

"The Force allowed us to discover Jorung hiding on this planet – of that I am sure," said Garreeb. "There is a reason we found him here. I believe the Force is guiding us even now."

Ferroh thought of what Master Talomar had told him about the Living Force and how it guided everyone's actions – even when they weren't aware of it. He also remembered his master's warnings on the subject. Sometimes, Jedi became too fatalistic and failed to plan for the future. Obviously Garreeb felt they were meant to find and confront Jorung.

Ferroh wasn't so sure – his feelings on the matter were confusing. He admitted he strangely felt his fate tied to that of the Sith. At the same time, he didn't know if this was the wisest course. He decided to trust Garreeb's conviction.

They arrived at their destination. A three story inn stretched out in front of them. The sign's letters were unfamiliar to Ferroh, but that wasn't an unusual occurrence. Garreeb went to the door. Ferroh noticed him hesitate, but then he squared his shoulders and pushed it open.

The innkeeper was a Trandoshan, and she hissed a gruff welcome to the three padawans, gesturing them inside. A protocol droid appeared behind the desk. The innkeeper waved toward the small group, and growled something to the droid.

"How many rooms will you gentlemen require?" inquired the droid, translating for the Trandoshan.

"We have a meeting with a Gran staying here. Which room is he in?" asked Hue.

"I am unable to provide that information," answered the droid.

Hue turned to the innkeeper and spoke slowly. "Tell him to take us to the Gran."

Somewhat mechanically, the innkeeper turned and hissed something to the droid. Garreeb turned and smiled at Ferroh. Hue's budding skill in using the Force to affect the weak-minded had come in handy.

"Please follow me," the droid told them.

They hung back while the droid knocked on the door, not wanting to let the Gran see them until the last possible moment.

"What?" said the Gran, opening the door.

"Hey there," said Hue, pushing his way into the room. Garreeb and Ferroh followed, shutting the door behind them.

"Now, now," stammered the Gran, eye stalks twitching. "I had no idea about Jorung. He helped pay for the shop to get going. He never told me where he got the credits…"

Ferroh growled. He had no patience for whimpering cowards who took advantage of everyone they possibly could. His first thought was to intimidate the Gran with a lightsaber and convince him to cooperate that way. Hue signaled to him to calm down – he had a different idea.

"Well, we can help you out," said Hue gently. "He escaped us earlier. Sheer luck. If we catch him, everything he owns will likely pass to you - as compensation."

The Gran was not stupid. "Sure. You would just let me have it free and clear, huh? Liars. Besides, he blew up the shop! There's nothing left."

"Oh, come on, friend. You think that was the extent of his wealth?"

The Gran fell silent, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. His demeanor became much more gracious. "I would love to help you. But I don't _know_ where he is. It's not like we were that close. He might have left the planet by now."

"We don't think so," said Garreeb stoically.

"I'm very tired. Why don't you come by tomorrow. Maybe I'll have thought of something by then."

Ferroh never considered himself brilliant. But even he could see the Gran was hiding something and eager to see them gone. Jorung might even be here, in the same building. He shook his head and once again reached for his lightsaber.

Hue laughed suddenly. "We don't mean to be rude. Of course, you are tired and not in the best state of mind. We will leave you be. Why don't we meet first thing in the morning?"

"Yes, yes. That would be very kind of you. Thank you," the Gran spluttered.

Hue took Ferroh by the arm and led him out the door. Garreeb soon followed. The Gran hurriedly shut the door behind them.

"What are you doing? He knows something!" hissed Ferroh, once they were out of the inn.

"Of _course_ he knows something," replied Hue in a condescending tone. "He's planning on being gone by morning. He agreed much too easily to us coming back so soon…"

"So we're going to wait and follow him," said Garreeb, understanding Hue's plan. "You are too sly to be a Jedi."

"I aim to get the job done," smiled Hue.

Ferroh frowned. He felt especially dim-witted – Garreeb and Hue were coming up with these plans on the go, and he was always two steps behind.

"Why follow him when we can force the information out of him?" asked Ferroh. "Or you could use your mind tricks to make him tell us what he knows."

Hue raised an eyebrow at the Cathar, then looked at Garreeb with a smile. "You know, Ferroh, you sound so much smarter when you keep your mouth shut."

"C'mon, Hue," warned the Nautilan.

"At least I'm _capable_ of keeping my mouth shut," Ferroh growled.

"Calm down, guys," Garreeb implored.

"No, no; that was half-way clever," sneered Hue. "Fine, I'll explain it to you. I can lead people on along; give them simple commands. And the 'mind-trick', as you call it, only works on the simple-minded and oblivious. So this should work wonderfully." He slowly waved his hand at Ferroh. "You will stop being such an idiot."

Ferroh's lightsaber flashed to life and he marched toward the human. At first Hue only laughed, but then he saw Ferroh was serious and quickly ignited his own weapon.

"No! Stop!" shouted the Nautilan. "You two are going to ruin everything. Grow up - both of you! You want to be Jedi – so act like it."

"We will settle this later," said Ferroh, replacing his lightsaber onto his belt. Hue only nodded, his arrogant smile returning to his lips. Shaking his head, Garreeb led them into an alley and they waited.

A short time later, the Gran appeared and quickly ducked down the street. The three silent padawans promptly followed him. It quickly became clear that he was returning to the shop – the site of the battle.

"Lana will be waiting there," whispered Garreeb. Lana was a human girl with short, blond hair. Ferroh had struck a fast friendship with her – it seems everyone did, for that matter. She had an appealing charm and went out of her way to be genial with others. Master Ryk had appointed her to guard the destroyed store, in case Jorung (however unlikely it seemed) should return.

"She's going to mess things up," said Hue. "The Gran's obviously going to look for something there – but she's going to stop him."

"Ferroh, run ahead and warn her," said Garreeb. "We will keep following, in case he changes direction. Stay hidden and wait for us to arrive."

The Cathar took off down an alleyway and proceeded up a parallel street. He had no doubt he could out-distance the others – he had easily won the footraces the padawans had organized in their spare time. Besides, he was more than eager to get away from Hue.

To take his mind off the sardonic human, Ferroh turned his thoughts to Garreeb. The Nautilan showed promise as a leader – in the training missions, but also, apparently, in the field. Normally Ferroh chafed under authority, but he realized that he had quickly obeyed all of Garreeb's requests this evening without question. He wondered if Garreeb also possessed the mind-trick ability, but quickly dismissed the idea. Garreeb was just able to see the big picture and figure out the best way to deal with situations. His decisions just made sense. Ferroh decided that when they did become Jedi Knights, he would try to work with Garreeb as much as possible.

Arriving at the ruined shop, he easily spotted Lana in an alleyway across the street. She wasn't doing a good job of being inconspicuous, he thought. She saw him too, knitting her brow, but smiling. He smiled back at her and began to cross the road, when a dread feeling came over him. It seemed that Lana sensed it too, as her smile quickly turned to a look of fear. The fear quickly became terror, and Ferroh saw she could no longer swallow and had begun to visibly tremble.

"Help, Ferroh," she whispered.

"NO!" screamed Ferroh. He watched as a scarlet shaft of light pierced Lana from behind through her torso. As she slumped to the ground, her killer was revealed. It was the Sith.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

Ferroh leaped at Jorung.

The Sith dodged easily and struck at Ferroh, who barely managed to block the attack. But Ferroh did not give his foe time to recover his footing, pressing his attack with such ferocity that the Sith was forced into the well-lit street.

"Impressive," said Jorung, blocking strike after strike. "I always admire a padawan's ingenuity."

Ferroh leaped to and fro in his Ataru style, attempting to confuse his opponent and strike from somewhere his foe wouldn't expect. But Jorung frustratingly blocked and parried at the last possible moment. Ferroh didn't let up. From experience, he figured that eventually one would get through.

"Such discipline from a… wild-looking creature," the Sith jibed. Ferroh had been trained to ignore such comments, but it was always difficult for him.

He realized his companions could not be far away. But holding Jorung off and keeping him busy were not his goals. No, he wanted the Sith lying defeated in the dust by the time they got there.

"A Jedi doesn't fight with this much passion," said Jorung when the Cathar finally let up to catch his breath. "Surely you have been trained by one of us?"

"You won't intimidate me," spat Ferroh. "I don't cheat like you. I will take you down, and I'll do it fairly."

"You are a naïve little creature," Jorung retorted, his anger showing through his calm demeanor. "You can't stop me."

"You know I can…," said Ferroh, and he became suddenly and completely calm. He realized he wasn't simply threatening his opponent. The Force was speaking to him; it was giving him clairvoyance. He stared into his foe's eyes with an amazed look on his face. "I _will_."

Jorung looked perplexed, as if he himself came to the same realization. "You're…you're right…" he breathed. In sharp contrast to a few seconds ago, the two stood in the street, totally still.

Finally, Jorung let fly a vicious slash at the padawan, who came out of the trance with a start just in time to block the attack.

"But not today, I think," snarled Jorung. He threw up his hand at Ferroh, and the Cathar was thrown back into a wall on the opposite side of the street. He had the breath knocked out of him, and fell to his knees gasping.

Now Garreeb and Hue came charging up the street, brandishing their green and blue lightsabers. Before they could reach him, Jorung pointed his fingers and, with a scowl, blasted Hue with vicious blue lightning. The human was thrown back several feet; he landed smoking on the ground.

Garreeb attacked the Sith now, with nearly as much vigor as Ferroh had shown. But Jorung could not be bested, and soon he counter-attacked the Nautilan. As Ferroh struggled to his feet, he saw more lightsabers coming up the street. Master Shae Ryk was among them, and Ferroh felt new confidence flow through his body.

He turned back to help his friend, and his confidence turned to horror. Jorung had managed to strike Garreeb in the leg, and the Nautilan was now doing his best to fend off the Sith while on bended knee.

Ferroh tried to run but found his legs shaky. Jorung saw the approaching Jedi, but knew he had almost defeated his opponent. Garreeb over-reached with one of his strikes; Jorung stepped forward, flicked his wrist, and neatly severed Garreeb's arm. One more strike saw the same happen to the Nautilan's head. Then he did something that horrified Ferroh – he laughed.

It was too much for Ferroh. He lashed out with the Force. There was no form or technique involved. It was a raw, unfocused blast. Jorung was flung over the building, and his approaching companions were likewise thrown.

Then, he passed out…


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

A low humming vibrated the thin mattress on which Ferroh awoke. He looked around, blinking his eyes. Through a haze, he saw a few other padawans in surrounding bunks. Rubbing his forehead, he slid out and planted his feet on the cold metallic floor.

He was on a transport ship – that much he could figure out. He wondered how long it had been since he was awake. His body felt exceedingly weak, as if he'd been lifting a weight that was too great for him. His vision wouldn't clear up, either.

"How do you feel?" asked the voice of Master Shae Ryk. Ferroh made out a blurry figure sitting at a table just outside of the sleeping area. He walked toward it, finding that he had to hold onto the wall for support.

"Uh, not good," he finally answered. He was starting to get worried about his eyes. Were they like this permanently? "I can't see well."

"You nearly tore yourself apart with the energy you unleashed," explained the old Jedi, getting up and helping him to sit. "Even your eyes suffered damage from the pressure."

"Oh," Ferroh grunted.

"You'll heal," she said reassuringly. "With my help."

"Thank you, Master. How are the others?"

"There were unfortunate losses," she told him, "though luckily not from your…outburst." Shae Ryk sighed, as if exasperated. She finally said, "Ferroh, I am worried for you."

"But you said I'd be okay," said the padawan, confused.

"Your body will be repaired," explained Shae Ryk. "I am worried about your mind. From what I saw back there, I don't think I can recommend that you continue with your training. In fact, I may demand that it cease immediately…"

His heart seemed to stop. Ferroh couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd been training as a Jedi for as long as he could remember. It was his _life_. It was not a life he regretted, although he had endured much frustration and sacrifice. He had spent countless infuriating hours just learning to roll a ball across a floor with the Force. For three years of his youth he hadn't understood what meditation was, and so he had _pretended_ every day before he finally understood how to do it. The highlight of his training was lightsaber combat, yet even then he often had to mask his disappointment when the different instructors would repeat techniques he already had seen and mastered. Most difficult of all, he'd patiently sat through interminable lectures from his new master, Talomar.

This news shattered him. He began to protest, but stopped himself. He knew what she would say: he had disobeyed her (unspoken) command when he had joined Garreeb and Hue to hunt down Aska Jorung. Now they were dead. He had endangered all the others with his emotional Force blast. His mind was in a panic. What could he say to convince Mater Shae Ryk to change her mind?

"Thank you for telling me your thoughts," he said with all the calmness he could muster. "I…I know I made some bad decisions," he continued in a low voice. "But everything I did…I did with the best intentions."

Shae Ryk smiled. "I know. That's the problem." Ferroh blinked. Shae Ryk sighed again before continuing. "Good intentions can lead to the Dark side almost as easily as bad intentions. You are talented, and very brave. But you _are_ still a padawan. And you forget that."

"No!" said Ferroh quickly. Shae Ryk raised a grey eyebrow. "I know that I still have much to learn. I'm willing to learn!"

"You are willing to learn so that you may become more powerful," stated the old Jedi.

"Yes!" replied the Cathar, too enthusiastically. He saw too late where Shae Ryk was leading him. "And to become wiser, as well."

Shae Ryk laughed. "Your intentions are clear to me, young one. You try to hide your thoughts, but I can see through you. You are not the first padawan I have met with such ambition. More often than not, they fall to the dark side in their quest for power." She raised a hand to silence Ferroh before he even spoke. "And most of them also had 'the best intentions.'"

"You say 'more often than not,'" Ferroh broke in, also using the other's words to make a point. "But not _all_, right?"

"No, not all," acknowledged Shae Ryk.

"How can you just turn me out now? Wouldn't that be more dangerous? I don't know what I would do."

Shae Ryk grew very serious. "That could be construed as a threat."

"No," said Ferroh quickly, becoming exasperated. "It's just the truth. I wouldn't give up my goals. I want to _protect_ others. If you think that I am…misguiding myself, you need to help me - not throw me out of the order."

Shae Ryk was silent. Ferroh realized the other padawans had all woken and were watching the exchange intently. With surprise, he noticed Hue was one of them. He hadn't died after all. Instead of giving one of his condescending smirks, he bit his lip and looked away, unable to meet Ferroh's eyes.

"You make a good argument," said Shae Ryk quietly. "But my judgment still stands."

Ferroh slumped in seat, and Shae Ryk leaned in to steady him. "So there is nothing I can do?" he despaired.

"Well, it's only my opinion. I'm not a council member, and not always listened to," she whispered. "Like you said, not all of the ambitious ones fall." She squeezed his shoulder and said in a heartfelt voice. "I sincerely hope you prove me wrong. And whatever happens, I will give you all the assistance I can."

Ferroh gave a half smile. He was looking at the person who might ruin his life, but at the same time, a true friend that he never knew he had. Not knowing what to say, but knowing he had to something, he looked at Master Shae Ryk and said, "Thank you."


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

The ship arrived at the Jedi temple during the night. Ferroh leaned his head against the window and gazed at the lights of Coruscant as they landed. Normally he liked to look down at a planet when on a ship, but this time he felt no joy in it. Once he landed, it wouldn't take long for Master Shae Ryk to tell the council what had happened. Then he would be forced out of the Jedi order.

Everything he had been training for had been useless. He thought of the few times he had witnessed a padawan turned out of the temple. It was not a discreet event. Even a very young padawan knew enough about the Force to be dangerous. All Jedi were alerted when someone was expelled so that they could keep track of their future activities. The council would see to it that he was "provided for" – which meant they would find him work as a cook or garbage collector in an area where he could be monitored by the Jedi.

Then an awful thought occurred to him, which for some reason he had not yet realized. They would take his lightsaber away. And he would never again be allowed to wield one. He felt emotions whirling around inside himself: fear, anger, hopelessness. Normally he kept these in close check. But now that he was no longer a Jedi, what was the point? For the first time in his life, Ferroh let the tears come.

"I can sense your despair from the other end of the ship," said a voice, startling him. He quickly tried to wipe the wet streams away, but ended up just smearing them deeper into his fur. He turned to see Hue leaning on a wall behind him. Great, he thought, this is just what I need right now.

"I heard what Master Ryk said to you," he said, his voice uncharacteristically somber. "It sucks."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're really broken up about it," said Ferroh with a bit more bite than he meant to. He noticed black burn marks on the human's skin, a memento of the Sith's electric attack.

Hue was not offended. "Well, what you don't know is that she had a similar conversation with me before you woke up."

Ferroh blinked in surprise. It hadn't occurred to him that Hue could be expelled too. But he supposed it made sense, since he had taken part in their covert mission.

"But…but your mistake was not as severe as mine," Ferroh offered.

"Shae Ryk's a perceptive old Jedi. She figured the whole thing was all my idea," he said bitterly.

"But it was Garreeb's." Ferroh's voiced choked as he said the name of the now dead padawan.

Hue didn't respond right away. "Nah, it was mine," he replied finally. "I suggested to him that we investigate on our own. He decided to act on it."

Ferroh mulled this over. He had to ask.

"And whose idea was it to involve me?"

Again Hue looked conflicted. "I guess I owe you the truth, huh?" He straightened up, looking like someone before a shooting squad. "That was me too."

Ferroh was quiet. Hue relaxed a little, but continued to bite his lip.

"You figured I was hot-headed enough that I would go for it, huh?" Ferroh asked. Hue didn't respond. "You sure were right."

"I'm sorry," Hue said quietly.

"Not your fault. I don't hold you responsible for my actions. I'm glad you told me; it would have been just as easy for you to lie," said Ferroh. "Did you tell all this to Master Ryk?"

"No, but I wanted to at least tell you." Hue came and stood beside Ferroh. "If we are kicked out, we should stick together. You know, to watch each other's backs."

Ferroh never thought he would feel reassured by words from Hue, but he felt the weight lift a little. It was nice to know that he wouldn't be alone.

"That would be good," he answered, smiling half-heartedly.

The ship landed on the platform, and the padawans gathered at the door. Ferroh could already feel thoughts directed at him from the other students. Some pitied him, some were contemptuous. He shook his head and avoided looking at them as much as possible.

He knew his master was here at the temple. As much as he disliked Master Talomar, he wanted to tell him what happened himself. He knew it would mean a long lecture afterwards, but that didn't seem so bad anymore. He wouldn't be hearing those sermons for much longer, and he thought he might actually come to miss them.

He finally found the Ithorian Jedi in the supply room. He was slowly packing luggage. Ferroh blinked. Was it for him? Did he already know?

"Master Talomar," he called. His master did not look up, but that was not unusual. Ferroh knew that he would be ignored for several seconds. The Ithorian Jedi's consciousness worked at a completely different pace than most others.

"Ferroh," he eventually replied, turning. "You have returned."

Ferroh nodded, not knowing where to begin his story.

"We are leaving for Nar Shaddaa, young padawan," Talomar continued. "Immediately, in fact." He turned back to his luggage box and gazed at it for a while. Then he closed it slowly, and meticulously fastened the locks. He gestured for Ferroh to pick up the heavy bags, and then turned to exit.

This was as rushed as Ferroh had ever seen his master. "What's wrong?"

Ferroh waited the accustomed amount of time for the reply. "Oh, nothing like that. No need to worry. It is just that we need to be going as soon as possible for this mission."

Ferroh's predicament was pushed out of his mind. A mission! An _off-planet_ mission! This was the first time Talomar had been sent on a mission since Ferroh had begun to study under him. Talomar was known for being exceedingly wise and was in high demand to teach about the Living Force and its effects on planetary ecosystems. Ferroh had given up hope that Talomar would be sent on an actual mission. Even though he _was_ in fact a Jedi Master, he seemed more like a biology professor.

Ferroh picked up the supply bags and trudged off after his master. "What is the mission? What is our role?" In the space of time it took for Talomar's response, Ferroh's quick mind had time to think of what he might say – and with each possibility he grew more pessimistic. Delivering a boring message too sensitive to transmit? Repairing crops after a blight? Giving a lecture at some prominent university?

"We are to disrupt and eliminate an interplanetary slave-trading ring," he said calmly.

Ferroh's eyes grew wide. Burdened as he was, he struggled to keep up to his master. The Ithorian was unexpectedly fast when he wanted to be. "We? You mean, as part of a Jedi task force?"

Talomar chuckled, a very strange sound for a creature with four throats. "We _are_ the task force. You and I, young one."

He was back on the landing platform, but now there was a different transport ship waiting there. Talomar strode up the ramp, and Ferroh huffed as he climbed up after him, laden with the heavy packs. Once he had stored them in the cargo hold, he returned and found his master seated with his eyes closed in a passenger seat. He remembered his situation. By the time the council learned of his actions, he and Talomar would be in hyperspace. They surely wouldn't expel him from the Jedi while on a mission with his master?

Ferroh settled into a seat of his own. He considered still telling his master everything that had happened on the training exercise, but then decided against it and buried his thoughts and emotions before Talomar sensed them. Perhaps he could prove his valor and worth on this mission. He could show that he had learned from his mistakes and that Shae Ryk's opinions were insubstantial. This could be his redemption.

And if not, well at least he could go on one final adventure as a Jedi…


End file.
